


You raise me up [so high I can't breathe]

by crossstitchcorinthian



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Timeline, feeeeeels of inferiority, xfactor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:24:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossstitchcorinthian/pseuds/crossstitchcorinthian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam had felt slightly inferior, right from the beginning. Just the same, when he held the other close, he felt worth a damn.<br/>A timeline, of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You raise me up [so high I can't breathe]

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my phone. During driver's ed.  
> So, yeah.  
> I don't actually know much about the X-factor; how it works, what happened for the boys whilst they were in it, etc, so all of that has essentially been pulled out of my arse.

He was the most difficult person Liam had ever come across. The most stubborn, obstinate person he's had the displeasure to know. 

He hadn't even known what the second word meant until Zayn had taught him. Or rather, he'd rolled his eyes and sighed, writing it out for Liam as he'd explained what it meant. Still, he'd done it with an air of superiority.

Or maybe he hadn't. 

(Liam felt inferior either way.)

Zayn had been the first person he'd met. He'd stumbled into him quite by accident, in a McDonald's long before his second audition. The other was undeniably cool, with his pierced ear and deep mumble of a voice. And, for reasons Liam couldn't quite place at the time, Zayn made him feel incredibly nervous. So naturally, he'd felt the need to impress him. To become his friend.

They ended up in the same house. In the same group. In the same room. 

Liam had been pleased to find Zayn preferred to keep things neat. It had saved him difficulty of chasing after a bunkmate. He was just as happy when he'd heard the other sing for the first time. If he was being completely honest with himself, Zayn's voice was part of the reason he'd stayed, agreeing to the group. He tried not to be upset when the girls had started to fawn over Zayn's face. As if his voice wasn't good enough on its own. 

(It wasn't like Liam could ever be so carelessly beautiful.)

Boot camp had pressed them all. The quick ease and friendship they'd displayed on the camera had carefully been edited, filmed and refilmed to the producer's satisfaction. They'd all had their troubles, their conflicts and petty disagreements. They hadn't fallen together so quickly or seamlessly as they would claim to. All the same, Liam had felt a small jolt of satisfaction when Zayn had pressed his head into the crook of his neck, nuzzling into it slightly in his inability to control his excitement.

(Liam had still been secretly pleased when he'd found out that Zayn couldn't dance.)

He'd been surprised when Zayn had started to come to him for help, taken aback by how the other claimed to need him. All the same, he'd been willing enough to teach Zayn what he could, showing him how to swing his hips. Clapping when the other's rhythm was off. He felt like the biggest person in the world when Zayn's hardwork had started to pay off. Really, Liam hadn't needed to do much to set Zayn on the right track. Still, when the other had pulled him into a tight hug, breathing a quiet 'thank you' into Liam's ear, he'd felt proud.

(Or how happy he'd felt when Zayn had asked him to dance with him.)

He tried not to be irritated when other's started to notice, joining their praise with his. They were in the same group. A victory for Zayn was a victory for him.

(It wasn't like his job to praise Zayn.)

Zayn was not without his flaws.

Liam had been angry the first time he'd found a cigarette dangling from in between his slender fingers, the smoke spiral staining his skin as he grabbed it away. Zayn hadn't bothered to fight Liam about it, but the next day, he'd found the same smoke rising from Zayn's cracked lips. Liam hadn't tried to stop him after that, at least not in that way. He still hated the way the scent of nicotine clung to Zayn's lips when he brushed them over his cheek in an interview.

(He told himself that he only wanted to kiss it away to shock the other out of the bad habit.)

His quest for knowledge was never ending. It would have been fine, if he hadn't felt the need to share what he knew with those he held close.

Niall found volumes of Poe and Dickens wedged between his socks on the first tour. Zayn had simply pursed his lips and sighed when Niall had dumped them back in the room Liam and Zayn were sharing with an epic eye roll and a choice phrase. Zayn had told Liam it was a Joyce quote. Liam suspected Niall was simply being rude.

He would ease Liam into a conversation about Kanye lyrics. He was subtle about it, but by the end, Liam would realize they'd been talking about the modern implications of new poetry forms and stop short. He didn't have the intellectual balls to keep up with that sort of thing. Liam would let Zayn continue his speech, allowing himself to fondly watch the other.

(Zayn was so much more of everything than anybody else Liam had ever met.)

Zayn was not a morning person. He wasn't even an afternoon person, really. Liam had to drag him from the bed most mornings, allowing the other to wrap his arms around him so he could pull him from his fortress of tangled sheets. If Zayn hadn't opened his eyes by the time his feet touched the ground, Liam would carry him to the shower. He'd pull off the other's clothes from him, placing Zayn under hot water as he folded his clothes for him after tugging the curtains closed. 

There wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. They'd all seen one another naked before.

(He still found himself flushed and half hard if he let his eyes wander.)

When Zayn had a project he was interested in, he was a model student. It was capturing his interest that was the problem. He was irritatingly smart, and he knew what he wanted. Between tours and interviews, he would hide away from the world. Liam would go looking for Zayn, and he would let him in with a grin and a crushing hug, mumbling things into his ear. 

(They fell into one another so perfectly.)

He was the most difficult person Liam had ever met.

And the easiest one to love. 

Zayn made him feel inferior. But when he was is in his arms, it was hard to remember that.

(Liam felt worth a damn when Zayn looked at him.)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is something and nothing. It really has nothing to do with the story, but it holds the purpose of giving this a nice little hook.  
> This is dumb. I'm sorry.


End file.
